In Another Life Book Novels & Stories

"Lucky for me, I was born with a silver spoon, unlike some people, born to parents who abandoned them." I couldn't help but think back to when Freddie had sat next to me on my bed in my past life, sipping from the bowl of nourishing soup that was supposed to help me recover. He had sneered, "Tyler, you're going to die anyway. Drinking all that soup won't change a thing. I'll just enjoy it for you; no need to thank me." I wanted to rip him apart right then and there—just the thought of him made my skin crawl.

This person provided a ton of key info just to bring down their competitor. And that person's last name was Carver. After thanking the police, I left the station. On the way home, I remembered a weird phone call I'd gotten once. The number was unfamiliar, and all I could hear on the other end was muffled sobbing. I lifted my head and looked up at the blazing sun. Its warmth washed over me. "What do you feel like eating today, babe?" Julian asked, his eyes crinkled into a smile. "Anything you make will be perfect," I said.

But I chose to give Ginevra another chance at life because I felt like she didn’t live enough. The live she lived was a lie through and through, and I want to give her a chance to live as she’d like—as her true self. So, if you want a BOOK 2 where Ginevra actually lives her true self… a book where she works hard to recover emotionally and truly be happy, then comment. Your comments will make that happen, give me the motivation to write her a beautiful story. Until then. Do well to check out my other book DEADLY DEVOTION.

I wanted truth, not comfort. The Goddess answered. I woke again, aware, and holding the weight of what I had seen. My second life was not a blessing. It was a reset, a chance to walk the same path with open eyes. The world thought I returned as the quiet girl they expected me to be. They didn’t know I remembered every conversation they tried to hide. They didn’t know I carried the knowledge of my own murder. And this time, I wasn’t going to die quietly. This time, the one who poisoned me would face me while I still breathed.

She sat in the corner of her cell all day without sleep, murmuring to herself over and over that it was all her fault. "Zachary, I'm sorry… If there's a next life, I promise I'll make it up to you." Without thinking, I immediately responded, "That won't be necessary, Mom. I don't want to be your son in the next life." As if she could suddenly see me, Mom turned toward me and exclaimed, "Zachary, you came to visit me! I knew you couldn't bear to leave me." I was startled, but I tried speaking to her again.

For the first time, hesitation crept into my heart. It was not because of Phoebe. It was because I realized that the trip had been like a mirror, reflecting parts of myself I had always avoided seeing. I began to wonder whether I had long grown tired of a life that felt too predictable, only lacking the courage to admit it. One weekend, Shanine brought up the idea of taking another short trip with Phoebe. Looking into her hopeful eyes, I suddenly understood something. Once a secret existed, it would never truly disappear.

I was just about to swipe my WhatsApp away when I noticed a little red dot on my contacts list. I tapped it open and saw a notification from an unknown number. The profile picture was a man's side profile, standing before a snowcapped mountain. The text read, 'Hello Ms. Shepherd, I'm Matteo Lombardi, a friend of Eugene's. I heard you're looking for a personal trainer?' I thought about it for a moment and accepted. I didn't do it because I wanted to start a new relationship, but because it felt like the right time to meet new people. It was time for me to form new friendships, socialize with new circles, and have a completely new life.

"I'm not saying I do love you. I don't. Five years of distance killed that possibility. I'm just saying... in another life, maybe." The words land with strange weight. In another life. "In another life," I say slowly, "I think I would have chosen differently too. Not you, necessarily. But someone I wanted. Not someone I was told to want." "That's good enough." He picks up his empty wine glass. "We'll get divorced. We'll both be free. We'll both figure out how to choose instead of just enduring. Deal?" "Deal." At the door, he pauses. "Claire?"

He started to speak again, but Phoebe cut in from the side, her voice bitter. "They've probably been seeing each other for a long time. Now, she wants him out with nothing." Her words seemed to remind Miles of something. This time, he didn't try to stop me. On the plane, I looked out at the city lights fading into the distance. There was no hesitation or attachment, only a quiet sense of anticipation. When we landed in the new city, Jonas took me back to the old neighborhood where I used to live. The neighbors still remembered me. They greeted me as we passed, warm and familiar. Their voices made me smile before I even realized it.

I was looking at it as something that might show me where my life could go next. Maybe there was no trying. Maybe there was only deciding, and for the first time, I was beginning to decide that I wanted my life back. I looked down at the medical book again, and it didn't feel like I was only looking at a book. I was looking at something more. Something that showed me where my life could go next. And maybe Axel was right. Maybe there was no trying. Maybe there was only deciding. I had to decide if I wanted my life back. Axel had placed everything in front of me, and I was going. I was going for this. I was doing it.